


Don't Wanna Miss a Thing

by musicmillennia



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assassin Date, Assassins, Blood, But mostly fluff, Coffee Shops, Cute Killers, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Florida's Got a Weird Reputation, Haytham Tries to Dad, M/M, Mild Angst, cause y'know, the main goal of this fic is to be Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 16:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14698155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: Templars singing to alligators is actually not the most pleasant surprise Bayek will have today.





	Don't Wanna Miss a Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Working on an AC/Legends of Tomorrow crossover atm BUT  
> but  
> I stumbled upon catgoboom's Tumblr and, subsequently, a new ship.  
> If you're seeing this, I will be writing something for you, cat. This is just a little "testing the waters" fic. I've got plenty of ideas, but they're all longer stuff. I wanna start small!
> 
> For anyone else, whether you ship these two or were just curious: hello and welcome!

Bayek's not sure why, but Florida Templars have a different air about them. He's not sure if it's the ever-changing weather. Maybe it's the constant cheer of Disney and Universal Studios infecting the entire state somehow.

He's only been here three days—not long enough to get to the root of why two Templar Knights are singing karaoke to alligators. Sober.

Bayek knows they haven't touched a drop. He's been following them since his arrival, gathering what information he can before striking. Apparently these Knights have been entrusted with the latest Animus plans: Layla's stolen blueprints from before she left Abstergo. Obviously she and Rebecca have been working on other advancements, but keeping the Templars as much in the dark as possible is preferable.

How are they sober?

Bayek films the next Aerosmith ballad for the team.  _I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing_ will ring in their Snapchat for weeks. Then Rebecca and Layla will find a way to put it on the Assassin network, maybe slip it into Abstergo servers just for kicks. Bayek suppresses a laugh.

Still, if they hadn't the flash drive on them, Bayek would have gone to their home and raided it, then waited there to strike. Their Key West house is lovely, professionally decorated with statues and mosaics. He could use a little nap on one of their plush couches.

What he's saying is they've been singing Aerosmith for  _hours_. Alligators have moved away, the novelty wearing on them too. Bayek's all but lounging on the bridge above them, yellow and black bicyclist disguise not drawing the slightest attention from the passing cars. Senu traces lazy circles in the sky, occasionally landing on a river sign before taking off again. The strange connection they share radiates with the same ennui.

Bayek is one of the best Master Assassins in the Brotherhood. That does not mean he can't get bored of Templars singing.

A high-pitched buzzing draws his attention to the sidewalk. He lifts his chin to get a better angle—and rolls to his feet.

"Connor!" he cries with a blinding grin.

Ratonhnhaké:ton pulls his bike next to Bayek, the wheels' spinning hum quieting. He's wearing a blue and black rendition of Bayek's gear, complete with black sunglasses. And the smile Bayek's been missing for months.

"I'll watch them," he says, not getting off the bike, "Go to their house."

They can't draw attention to themselves, so Bayek maneuvers around the helmet's jutting visor for a quick kiss, staying in his breath. "You will never want to hear Aerosmith again."

"I will live."

"You were in Boston just yesterday."

Ratonhnhaké:ton shakes his head. "Later."

There's something heavy in his voice. Bayek kisses him again, giving what brief comfort he can. "Would you like Senu?"

"She's been subjected to enough."

Bayek strokes his cheek once before grabbing his helmet. "I owe you a coffee."

"I'll put it on your tab."

* * *

Bayek, now changed into a more comfortable outfit of shorts and a white t-shirt reading  _FUCK YOU_ in Egyptian, a gag gift from Hepzefah for his birthday, takes pictures of the pool and its bar. The bar that is  _in the pool_.

Desmond's asking if he can swipe the shaker. Ezio's daring him to skinny dip, to which Layla replies with big eye emojis. Shaun is regretting being part of their group chat.

Senu gives a quiet warning. Bayek silences his phone and swings onto the roof.

In the setting sun, the Templars' sweat glistens on their beards. Still they hold hands, breaking into laughing song between chatter. A peaceful image, if one disregards their exploiting dog fighting rings and have been responsible for boys ending up tied to bedposts and crying for their parents.

The bushes twitch. Bayek can only glance over, but it's enough to see the top of Ratonhnhaké:ton's head steeped in colorful flowers and green shrubs. 

The Templars stop next to their pool. Looks like they'll be the ones skinny dipping. Now stationed behind them, Bayek can signal to Ratonhnhaké:ton.  _I take left. You take right._

Sharp eyes flick up and down. He understands.

The Templars go for their belts. Slowly, Bayek creeps over the large A-roof's side, taking care not to slide.

Flash drive's thrown with the left man's shorts. It's in his wallet.

Bayek holds up his fingers.  _Three. Two. One_.

He clenches his fist. Ratonhnhaké:ton charges, and he leaps.

Blood sprays the water. There's no time to scream.

As they clean their blades with thick Kleenex from Bayek's back pocket, Bayek says, "Ezio wanted us to swim in here."

Ratonhnhaké:ton raises an eyebrow. "I will settle for the coffee."

"Wherever you want."

"I don't know the area well."

"Then the first place you like."

Bayek gets a tinier version of the earlier smile. "We need to stage a break-in first."

"Of course." And, for no reason other than he's feeling positively _giddy_ , Bayek adds, "Would you like to knock over one of their statues?"

Perhaps the Floridian air is getting to him too.

* * *

Despite Ratonhnhaké:ton's best efforts, Bayek insists on going into the café that catches his eye. It'll be overpriced wherever they go anyway, and this place is cozy, with high tables along the windows and smooth jazz crooning along the cream colored walls and landscape photographs.

Once they've ordered, Bayek reaches between them and says, "Now tell me what is bothering you."

Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn't take his hand. "What makes you think something is bothering me?"

Bayek pulls back, giving him more space. "When I said you were in Boston yesterday, you said 'later.' I know that voice." Ratonhnhaké:ton doesn't move, but tension grows around his eyes and lips. "It is much later."

He waits at the edges of the established boundaries. Lulling conversation drifts around them. Baristas dance about espresso machines, fatigue weighing the circles under their eyes even as they swap jokes and gossip amongst themselves and willing customers. No one will be talking of the corpses two streets down for a while yet.

"I was going to say I wanted to surprise you."

Bayek tilts his head with a smile. "And you did."

"...my father called."

Bayek stiffens. "When? Yesterday?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton inclines his head. "He didn't seem to know about your mission. He just..." the waitress arrives with their drinks and Bayek's chocolate croissant. When she leaves, "It seemed to be about my divorce."

Bayek's eyebrows rise. "That was over three years ago."

"I know. But the anniversary is coming up. Well," Ratonhnhaké:ton shrugs. "I'm not sure what you would call it."

"So it was a social call."

Bayek tries not to sound skeptical. Thankfully Ratonhnhaké:ton's just as suspicious, furrowing his brow and shifting in his seat.

"He said it was," he says.

"What did you tell him?"

"What truth I was willing to give. That Ohserase and I separated on amiable terms. That our children were understandably upset but are happy their parents are still friends. Then I asked why he called." Ratonhnhaké:ton's brow furrows deeper. "He gave no other reason, but he seemed...hesitant. I've never heard my father falter, no matter how many wrongs he has committed."

Bayek blinks. Blinks again.

Then he laughs.

Ratonhnhaké:ton glares. "What?"

Still chuckling, Bayek reaches for his hand again and says, "Connor, my love. Did you think that perhaps he simply wanted to ask how his son was doing?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton looks so baffled Bayek nearly laughs again. But he's letting Bayek trace his knuckles, so he can't be completely unconvinced.

"I have never met him in person, but I have heard many stories from your mother. Eh, don't give me that look! She spoke of him first! From what I heard, the man has no concept of fatherhood, especially with his family so firmly against his philosophies. But you two worked together for a while."

"Not recently."

"And have you reached out since?"

"Obviously not."

Bayek sees the regret and squeezes his fingers. "Neither has he. But maybe, even if it might end as badly as last time, he wants to try."

"And if he has some ulterior motive?" Ratonhnhaké:ton asks tightly.

Bayek shakes his head. "We are both fathers, Connor. Do you think he does?"

"My father's parenting is far from ours."

Bayek dips his chin and gives him the same look he'd given Khemu when the boy tried to hide his mother's broken vase. Ratonhnhaké:ton looks at his coffee.

"If he does," Bayek ventures, "then you are perceptive enough to catch it. I am as reluctant to trust the man as you are, but I know when a father is reaching out to his boy."

Ratonhnhaké:ton sighs. "I...wanted to think so." He nods. "Thank you."

Bayek dips his head to kiss his fingers. "I am honored you trusted me to share your worries."

Ratonhnhaké:ton hides his surprise, but not enough for Bayek not to catch it. Because even after all this time, he still needs the reminder that Bayek wants to be here for him. Silly, lovely man.

"So," Bayek says, "Will this be the day you try a chocolate croissant?"

"Aveline's not here," is the dry reply, "She'll kill me."

"How many times are you going to use that excuse, eh?"

"As many times as she is not here to see me eat a croissant."

"I won't tell. Promise." When he only gets a wry look, Bayek waves the croissant over their joined hands. "Come, Connor. One bite won't kill you!"

"I say again: Aveline will."

"I said I would not tell!"

"The last time you said that, my face on Kingda Ka got two hundred likes on your Instagram."

"That was Hepzefah's doing."

"Yet you did not take it down."

"Would you like me to?"

This is asked seriously, but Ratonhnhaké:ton merely rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his coffee.

"Here," Bayek says, putting the croissant down to retrieve his phone. "Take it. That way you know I am not taking any pictures."

The Assassins stare each other down. One smiling freely, the other, despite his narrowed eyes, on the verge of ducking his head and grinning. 

Ratonhnhaké:ton rips off a piece and takes a bite.

"Well?" Bayek asks.

After a few purposefully drawn-out chews, Ratonhnhaké:ton replies, "It's alright."

His phone vibrates.

"What is it?"

Wordlessly, the phone is presented to Bayek.

 _AVELINE  
_ _> >Heard you arrived in FL. Hope you did not sample anything without me._

"That woman is unearthly," Bayek says blankly.

What happens next is one of his favorite expressions: a snort blending into high-pitched snickering that shines in Ratonhnhaké:ton's crinkling eyes. He always tries to cover his mouth, but it never works.

"What are you typing?" Bayek demands. Or tries to, as Ratonhnhaké:ton's laughter softens everything around it.

Once more, he is presented with a message:  _Bayek takes full responsibility._

"Well," Bayek says slowly, "I did bring it upon myself. A kiss before Aveline sends her rage?"

As if she'd heard him, his phone vibrates.

A blush is curling through Ratonhnhaké:ton's russet cheeks. Bayek wishes he never had to learn to laugh quietly. It's still a radiant sound, though, and he unabashedly records it, arguing that there is no croissant in the frame. It's made better when one of the baristas changes the radio station, and  _Don't Wanna Miss a Thing,_ sung without two idiots and alligators, makes Ratonhnhaké:ton practically wheeze.

Aveline has sent a short but ever-expressive  _Bayek_.

In spite of his impending doom, Bayek would call this a very good day.

**Author's Note:**

> It is a small ship, but it is a strong ship!
> 
> By the by, I had Bayek saying Connor and thinking of him as Ratonhnhaké:ton because pronunciation issues. He's working on it! Also, sorry if this offends anybody from Florida. All in good fun, I assure you.


End file.
